


What You're Willing to Lose

by 221blackandwhitestripes



Series: The Sound Of Your Heart [6]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dom/sub Undertones, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, Love/Hate, Lust, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possibly Unrequited Love, Rated E for safety, Restraints, Shipper Ivy, Smut, oswald is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221blackandwhitestripes/pseuds/221blackandwhitestripes
Summary: “As it turns out, you were wrong. Edward hasn’t forgiven me. We’re not lovers. We’re barely even friends. He may care for me in some warped, ex-best friend form, but it isnotlove.”





	What You're Willing to Lose

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so glad this is finally finished. It's also longer than I first thought it would be, but I'm pretty sure the next one will be even longer, so who cares? Anyway, thank you for your patience, and here you go :)
> 
> Song of choice is [Desire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GNb4FBawH_U) by _Years & Years_ feat. _Tove Lo_ because it fits so freaking well here.

_I must be tough_   
_I must behave, I must keep fighting_   
_Don't give it up_   
_I want to keep us compromising_   
_Open your arms and pray_   
_To the truth that you're denying_   
_Give in to the game_   
_To the sins that you've been hiding_   
_Where are you taking me?_   
_I can't be blamed_   
_(I want you to want me again)_   
_Is it desire, or is it love that I'm feeling for you?_   
_I want desire_   
_'Cause your love only gets me abused_   
_Is it desire, or is it love that I'm feeling for you?_   
_I want desire,_   
_I wanna see what you're willing to lose_   
 

Oswald pursed his lips and reminded himself of his mother’s age-old lesson; screaming bloody murder never got him anywhere.

“Could you please just start the car so we can _go_ ,” he asked, trying to keep his tone civil even as a chunk of ice seeped inside. 

“I can do that,” Freeze said. The car started.

“I still wanna drive,” Ivy whined, knocking her head back against the headrest impatiently. “What’s the point of having a body that can actually see over the dashboard if I can’t use it?”

“Ivy, you’ve never driven in your life, you’re not going to start with three other people in the car for you to massacre,” Oswald snapped.

Ivy pouted and he sighed.

“I’m sure Freeze will find time to teach you at some point, seeing as he’s the most capable. I can drive, but I’m hardly a teacher,” Oswald sniffed.

“Too bad green-boy isn’t part of our group. He coulda taught me, I’m sure of it,” Ivy decreed. “I miss him.”

Oswald pressed his lips together, breathing deep.

“We met him one time Ivy,” Bridget droned, Oswald catching her eye-roll in the rearview mirror. “You don’t even know him.”

“I know, but Ozzie likes him so…” Oswald shot her a glare, as scathing as he could manage. “What? You _do_.”

“Whatever,” Oswald rubbed his temple. It had been a long day. Who could’ve known moving bases would be so draining? “Let’s just get this junk to the Manor already before I die from boredom.”

Freeze nodded and pulled out, Ivy’s old greenhouse slowly disappearing into the distance.

***

“There’s a question mark on your face.”

Oswald closed his eyes, pressing his lips together tightly with a heart-felt sigh.

“You can sleep in the freezer.” He waited until Freeze’s heavy-plodding mechanical steps took him away before opening his eyes and focusing on the ruined painting once more.

As much as he hated it, it was very… _Ed._ No denying that.

He reached up, tracing the elegant curl of the green paint with his index finger; dry, blended in like it was supposed to be there. Huh.

With another sigh, Oswald turned away, deciding to go exploring. Perhaps he could discover whatever mess Ed must have made of his room while he was staying here.

Oswald made his way up the stairs, turning right to where Ed’s bedroom had been rather than left to his own. He turned the stiff door knob, pushing the door open to hear it creak. He stepped inside, surveying the contents. It was surprisingly clean, looking less lived in than the majority of the other rooms he’d seen so far. Still, there were sheets on the bed and marginally less dust, so Oswald decided that Ed had at least been in there at _some_ point.

Satisfied with his exploration, or at least acknowledging the fact he wasn’t about to find anything, Oswald walked out of the room, turning in the direction of his own room. It would do to give that a look over, see what of his belongings still remained there. He hadn’t brought a lot with him when they decided to move, his only possessions being the few procured items he’d gathered from a couple of his safehouses; a toothbrush, a couple different suits, spare makeup bag, his other-other cane, a handgun, that kind of thing.

Walking into his room, he noticed several different things at once. One: of all the rooms this and Ed’s office were the most lived-in of all. Two: this room was the most messy of all of them; bed sheets pulled-up and rumbled, several items knocked over, cushions littering the floor. Three: Ed was definitely in here. The air still held the scent of him, contained and preserved by the loyal, windowless walls. Several of the small items Oswald had been expecting to find in Ed’s room were instead located here; a bottle of cologne, a spare set of spectacles, the puzzle-box Oswald had brought him while he was still in Arkham.

Oswald stepped closer, eyes tracing over the room slowly like a child reading a Spot What! book. So much of his own items had been removed and replaced, makeup bag up turned, several silk ties lying about the place. The origami penguin moved from the place on the mantle to sit next to Ed’s puzzle box on the nightstand. It looked better there anyway.

Oswald sighed, walking to the door on the other side of the room and pulling it open to step into the ensuite bathroom. He was pleased to note that several of his hair products were still there, although his shampoos and conditioners appeared to be nearly empty. No matter, those were easily replaceable.

So, this was where Ed had stayed for a good portion of the time Oswald was away. Interesting. Oswald rolled his tongue around his mouth, wanting to delve a bit deeper into Ed’s possible motivations for such a decision, but not very excited at what answer he could get. No, it was better to simply forget about it and move on.

Oswald opened his bedroom door again, stepping out.

“Ivy!” he called loudly, projecting through the house.

“Yeah?” she called back distantly, although her footsteps soon sounded on the staircase.

“Come in here and help me clean this up, would you?” he requested as she came into view.

“Sure thing, boss,” she agreed with a grin and a mock-salute. Oswald’s lips twisted, but he allowed it, stepping back to let her in. It wasn’t her fault she looked so much like Edward when she did that. Oswald simply had to keep that information to himself, and then take it to the grave.

***

Oswald buried his face deep in his hands and groaned. One day in the Manor with Freeze, Firebug and Miss Plants, and Oswald was already going half out of his mind.

“Sounds like you need to relax,” Ivy told him in her endlessly cheerful voice, looking up from where she was mixing a variance of plants into a paste. “Take a chill-pill for once. I have some if you want any.”

“No, Ivy,” Oswald snapped, going back to his palm-haven.

“Well…” Ivy began leadingly. “ _Maaaybe_ you should text your boy-toy. Ask for a little… stress relief.” Ivy wriggled her eyebrows and Oswald’s lips twisted.

“One,” Oswald held up a single finger, “You are much too young to talk like that.” Ivy shrugged, unmoved. “Two,” two fingers now, “I don’t _have_ boy-toys. I have enemies. And if you call anyone I lend my company to that, I will be forced to disown you.”

“Aww, come on, Ozzie,” Ivy rolled her eyes, skipping forward to smirk down at him knowingly. “I know ya got Riddle-guy tied up somewhere, waiting for your call.”

“Ivy,” Oswald warned, glaring at her.

“Ya know, I was reading the newspaper-”

“Really?” Oswald interrupted with a snort.

“Okay, so Freeze was readin’ it,” Ivy admitted. “Anyway, your ‘Riddler’ sure does like having fun,” Ivy informed him, a whimsical lilt to her voice, almost musical. “Banks, museums, art galleries. Jewellery, paintings, diamonds, cash, artifacts. Does it all.”

“Ivy,” Oswald groaned. “Get to the point.”

“He's out there, every second day, wreaking havoc. But, if I'm not mistaken, that man would drop everything just to see you.” Ivy gave him this _look_ , like she'd seen something he hadn't. “Don't you think that means something?” Something flashed in her eye, and Oswald was briefly reminded of a rather insane woman who had come to him as Mayor with some crazy conspiracy. She’d thought the aliens had landed. Silly woman. “There has to be a reason for him wanting… whatever it is that you have. Don't you think it's significant?” Her left eyebrow twitched upward and Oswald felt his fists clench tight. “Or are you really just that good?”

“Ivy,” Oswald shouted and everything went quiet, even the leaves of the trees outside seemed to stop rustling to lend their eerie silence. “Consider this a warning; never mention Edward again.”

“I don’t get what’s so complicated,” Ivy whined. “Sure, he shot you-”

“ _Ivy_.”

“But he’s clearly past that now,” Ivy reasoned. “And you loved him before. _Really_ loved him. Surely, you still-”

“There are things on Earth, Ivy, that shouldn’t be forgiven,” Oswald spat, seething through his teeth. “Betrayal is one of them. Edward betrayed me after I gave him _everything_. That isn’t something that can be fixed by _seven-minutes-in-heaven_ , or whatever other game you’d like me to play.”

Ivy was quiet for a very long moment. The trees outside rustled again.

“Funny,” she said quietly, “how you haven’t forgiven his betrayal, but he’s clearly forgiven yours.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Oswald huffed. Ivy just gave him another _look_. Oswald scowled at her before standing, snatching his cane up into his fist, and stalking out of the room.

He was halfway up the old, ornate staircase, wondering at how much had changed since the last time he was there, when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

_Buzz, buzz._

Oswald swallowed.

_Don’t pick it up don’t pick it up don’t pick it up-_

Hand in pocket, phone flipped open, buttons pressed.

_Too late._

_**Edward:** I was formed a long time ago, yet was made today. I am employed while others sleep. What am I?_

Oswald blinked at the text for a few seconds before making a decision.

_**Oswald:** No need for flirting, I’m coming over._

The reply came almost instantly.

_**Edward:** How long?_

Oswald looked around him at the empty hall. Surely no one would notice if he took the car out for a couple hours.

_**Oswald:** Give me 20_

_**Edward:** :)_

***

He’d done it so many times, the journey seemed almost familiar, now: Parking the car outside Grundy-street, making his way into the apartment building, up the stairs to knock on Ed’s steel-plated door. Those awful moments of silence in which Oswald must wait, his brain abuzz, wondering what would happen this time.

And just how much he would have to regret it.

“Oswald,” Ed greeted warmly as he rolled open the door. It was unsettling whenever he did that, enveloping Oswald in a false cloak of assurance as if there was no contempt behind those smiling eyes. “It’s nice to see you.” Oswald inclined his head, not bothering with a proper reply. His eyes roved up and down Ed’s body, considering him curiously. He was actually in a suit again, like the day Oswald had revealed himself as back from the dead. Mind you, this one was pressed and clean, the skinny tie hanging from Ed’s neck straight and tidy instead of crooked and misshapen.

In something of a waltz, Ed backed up so Oswald could step inside, shuffling around Ed in order to let him shut the door again. 

Ed eyed him, and Oswald studied him equally, waiting. Strangely, Ed merely bit his bottom lip, pressing his back to the door as he looked at Oswald beneath lowered eyelids.

Oswald’s lips twisted. “What?”

“I just missed you, that’s all,” Ed replied innocently, a soft smile curling his lips as he pushed his glasses further up his nose and tugged on the hem of his jacket.

“Really?” Oswald asked incredulously, his right eyebrow raised. He took a step forward. “No ‘I hate you’? Not even a ‘go fuck yourself’?”

Ed’s expression changed slightly, flinching like a tick, _sad_ , before morphing into a veil amusement. “Not this time.”

Oswald rolled his eyes, not hesitating before using Ed’s position to his advantage and trapping him against the door, quickly pressing their lips together. 

This, too, was familiar; that sudden pull in his stomach, taking his insides like a high tide taking sand. That physical sensation of _‘it has been too long’_ and _‘how did I manage to go on without this’_. Irrational, perhaps, but Oswald had never confessed to being anything but.

Ed opened his mouth, letting him in, and Oswald would have smirked if he wasn’t too busy running his tongue along Ed’s palate to make him shiver. Ed’s hands curled into the fabric of Oswald’s jacket, pushing and pulling relentlessly as Oswald endeavoured to coax Ed into making those little sounds that he so loved. 

It was at the desperate scrabble of Ed’s long fingers undoing his waistcoat that Oswald halted, snatching Ed’s wrists with a shake of his head and an ‘uh, uh, uh’ on his breath before he pinned them to the door.

Ed just smiled and winked--cheeky as ever--before moving his head in just close enough to pull Oswald’s bottom lip between his teeth. Eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, Oswald pushed his hips against Ed’s, pinning him there against the door as well. Whether a reprimand or reward, Oswald couldn’t decide.

Ed finally let go of his lip, eyes shining with delight. “I like it when you take control,” Ed told him, his tongue peeking out to run along his top lip lasciviously.

“Well, I’m glad we’re in agreement,” Oswald replied coolly, quirking his brow in a silent challenge for Ed’s rebuttal. Ed merely smiled and nodded his head; an early concede, but Oswald would take what he could get.

“Tell me,” Ed began, his lips pressed together and that look _still in his eye_ , the one that made it seem like this was the only place Ed wanted to be, the one that Oswald tried his best to downplay or ignore. There was a chance it didn’t mean anything, and Oswald happily latched onto that chance and rode it like the magic-carpet. After all, Oswald certainly couldn’t return the sentiment.

_Right?_

“Did you miss me?”

Oswald scoffed, rolling his eyes, but when he gazed back at Ed, he realized it wasn’t a joke and his mouth went dry. “Does it really matter if I missed you or not?”

Ed cocked his head: _You tell me_.

“Well, I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere,” Oswald told him, pressing his lips to Ed’s firmly for emphasis.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to make the most of this rare opportunity,” Ed told him, grinning madly, back to joking and teasing again. “It’s not every day I have _The_ Oswald Cobblepot, Penguin extraordinaire, in my bedroom.”

Oswald snorted. “Your bedroom is also your kitchen. And your lounge. And your dining room.”

Ed grinned again, waggling his eyebrows. “Well, doesn’t that just give us room to play?”

Oswald scoffed and rolled his eyes again, but he knew the blush on his cheeks probably gave him away. “Shut up and let me kiss you again.”

“Okay.”

A soft inhalation as they drew close once more, Ed’s fingers flexing in Oswald’s hold as he pressed their lips together. Shaking with regrown hunger, they left the teasing behind, regaining that insatiable heat that quickly sent one of Oswald's hands abandoning his hold on Ed’s wrist to trace down the taller man’s body and watch him fall apart.

“Oh _my_ , oh--I’ve missed you, I've missed you so much!” Ed gasped and babbled, arching into Oswald's touch like a man addicted. It made Oswald pause once more, rather infuriatingly, as he considered the source of Ed's words. It wasn’t like Ed to repeat himself. What was he trying to do, here?

“O-Oswald?” Ed questioned. Oswald shook his head to clear it. He smirked at Ed, revealing his teeth.

“Let’s go play.” Latching onto Ed’s skinny tie, Oswald pulled him across the room, turning them around to push Edward up against the kitchen counter.

“Really?” Ed asked cheekily, raising his eyebrow.

“Uh huh,” Oswald nodded. Steadily, he undid Edward’s tie, pulling it from around his collar. “And now we’re getting to your favourite part of the game.”

“Ooh, what’s my favourite part of the game?” Ed asked, reaching up to run the palms of his hands down Oswald’s upper arms, but Oswald slapped them away.

“Instructions,” Oswald answered, moving to help Ed out of his suit jacket.

“Oh, you know me so well!” Ed exclaimed with a flattered chuckle, pressing his hand flat against his chest. Oswald tsked and shook his head.

“Don’t go getting over-familiar now, Eddie,” he warned, latching onto one of Ed’s wrists.

“I won’t,” Ed says, breathing heavily as Oswald pressed a kiss to his wrist before pulling the tie over it. “I promise.”

“Good boy,” Oswald affirmed, grabbing the other wrist and granting it a kiss as well before pressing them together and tying them there with the tie.

“Ooh, spicy,” Ed giggled.

“Shut up, Ed,” Oswald told him.

“Was that an instruction?” Ed asked, voice purposefully breathy and excited.

“Yes,” Oswald told him, deadpan. “And here’s another; get on the bench.”

“Yes, sir,” Ed said, saluting with both hands before hopping up on the countertop. It would always bother Oswald how much easy Ed found such menial movements. Oswald could never have that. “What next?”

“So demanding,” Oswald tutted as he loosened his own tie and dropped it by Ed’s thigh. “Lie down, please.” Ed hummed as he complied. “Now stretch your arms up above your head. Are you comfortable?” He slipped the jacket off of his shoulders, throwing it carelessly in the direction of Ed’s sofa.

“You going to tie my hands to the handle on my knife drawer, Oswald? Rather fitting, I must say.” Ed waggled his eyebrows.

“Spread your legs,” Oswald instructed, ignoring him. Ed complied. Oswald moved back, latching onto Ed’s left foot to begin untying his shoes.

“Gonna tie me up with my own shoelaces? That’s even better!” Ed exclaimed. Oswald began untying the other shoe. “Go on, then! I’m ready.”

“On the contrary,” Oswald purred, dropping the shoe on the floor and stepping between Ed’s legs to begin removing his belt. “The only one who’ll be keeping you in your current position is you.”

“I, um,” Ed cleared his throat. “Just to clarify…”

“Every time you move from your current position, _especially_ your hands, I’ll stop,” Oswald explained, slowly loosening his cuffed sleeves before rolling them up his forearms.

“Stop what?” Ed asked hoarsely, but from the tenor of his voice, Oswald believed he had an idea.

Nonetheless; “This.” Oswald stooped down to run his tongue along Ed’s crotch, over his bright green trousers. There was no real pressure behind it, but it was more the idea of it that was supposed to get Ed off.

“O-oh,” Ed gasped. Oswald straightened up, leaning over to start undoing Ed’s shirt buttons, leaving the shirt half open, just lying there. “Is this a continuation of my punishment?” Ed suddenly asked, voice containing a tremor which could’ve been excitement or something else entirely.

“Partially,” Oswald told him. “But, mainly, it is an exercise in self-control. Because, frankly, I think you need it.”

Ed huffed indignantly. Raising his eyebrow, Oswald reached down and stroked him through his pants. Ed immediately jerked, hips bucking with a whine. “O-okay, so you may possibly have a point-”

“That doesn’t sound like ‘you were right’ to me,” Oswald reprimanded.

Ed sighed. “You were right.”

“Good,” Oswald preened, hands undoing his waistcoat before slipping that off his shoulders as well. “Now, let’s proceed.”

“Yes, sir,” Ed chirped.

“I know you think you're being funny,” Oswald began, “but you know I like it when you call me that.” Oswald lightly traced the muscles over Ed's stomach, just curious for now. It wasn't every day he had Ed powerless and at his disposal.

“Oh, I'm serious, sir,” Ed told him. Oswald stuck his forefinger and thumb in his mouth. “Absolutely, undeniably seri-”

Oswald grinned, saliva-slicked fingers clamping harder around Ed's nipple, twisting a little as he cried out. “Now, are you going to promise to shut up, or should I leave you here, like this?”

Ed nodded, eyes squeezed tight and chest heaving.

“Good boy, Eddie,” Oswald said, pleased, patting the man’s pectoral muscle before moving on and straightening up again. Cocking his head to the side, he surveyed his work thus far, quite pleased with his progress. Ed's arms remained pinned above him, his head tilted back slightly to aid his panting breaths. His half-exposed chest peaked out from the flaps of his white, well-wrinkled shirt, one nipple still slightly glossy from Oswald's attentions, standing out from his skin, the other just as hard, continually teased as every exhale dragged the skin against his shirt. And, with his hands the way they were, there was nothing Ed could do about it. Oswald hummed happily, reaching up to brush his finger over it and watch Ed's ribs shudder.

_Buzz, buzz._

Oswald jerked his hand back, reaching into his pocket. “Really?” Ed whined weakly. Oswald ignored him.

_**Ivy:** Were r u? Ive looked every were_

Oswald huffed.

_**Oswald:** Can't talk right now, I'm busy._

_**Oswald:** You can apologize to me later._

Satisfied, Oswald shoved the phone in his back pocket and turned back to his subject matter.

As fun as this was, it was about time he decided what he wanted out of this. This was supposed to be a punishment for _Ed_ after all. Oswald could have as much fun as he liked.

Stepping back a bit, Oswald let his gaze wander down, a smirk curling his lips as he noticed Ed's hard cock visibly straining through his pants, desperate for attention. Ah, so _that_ was what Oswald wanted; to leave Edward utterly strung out and debauched. He wanted to make it so that everytime Ed touched himself, Oswald was all he thought of, all he _could_ think of, all he _wanted_ to think of. Only Oswald's lips against his, sucking on his nipples, tongue lapping at the head of his cock. Only Oswald's name spilling from his lips, again and again, like a mantra. Yes, that was what Oswald wanted.

“Tell me, Ed,” Oswald began, stepping closer once more, shifting his bad leg so he could lean all the way into Ed's space, lips a couple inches from his ear, one palm resting on his stomach. “When you touch yourself, do you go… slow?” Oswald slowly dragged his fingertips across Ed's skin, feeling the muscles flutter beneath his touch. “Tease yourself? Feel your hips buck as you touch yourself everywhere except where you _really_ want it?” Etching circular patterns as he went, Oswald slowly climbed higher until his fingers were circling Ed's nipples again, pinching one before switching and rubbing the other with his thumb. “Do you act like you're on display, like someone's watching from behind a curtain, touching themselves too because they just can't help it, they've never seen _anything_ like you.”

Ed cried out again as he visibly restrained himself from taking action, biceps tensing, stomach muscles rippling, his hips shifting upwards ever-so-slightly.

“You're beautiful,” Oswald whispered, mesmerized, pressing the words to the shell of his ear, embedding them with the softest of kisses. 

Oswald blinked, pulling back a little. It seemed he, too, needed to rein himself in.

“Or,” he continued, “do you like it fast? Quick, harsh and dirty?” Quick like a mercy-kill, Oswald scraped his nails down Ed's chest to his crotch, pressing the heel of his hand over it, digging in hard enough to feel his cock pulse.

“Ah!” Ed cried, hips bucking up sharply. Oswald immediately drew his hand away, tutting. “Oh- Oh _my_.”

“So, Ed,” Oswald stood again, bracketing Ed with hand on either side of his torso. “Which one is it? Fast or slow?”

Ed was gasping and panting so hard Oswald was afraid he might not be able to speak, until, at last, he did. “B-both! Both of them!”

Oswald tilted his head and smiled, lifting one hand to card Ed's hair away from where it had flopped into his eyes. “Tell me more.”

“Wh-when I go… _slow_ , I-I imagine it's you - watching me, w-wanting me.”

“I bet you do,” Oswald chuckled lowly. “What else?”

“S-sometimes-” Oswald smirked at the stutter. Ed's eyelashes were fluttering wildly, his lips twitching open and shut with unformed sentences like he couldn't quite figure out how much he wanted to divulge. “Sometimes, I'll just be in the middle of my latest plan; scoping out the building, my gun pressed to a man's forehead… and I'll th-think of you.”

Oswald hummed; go on.

“A-and I'll remember… that way you looked,” Ed’s chest shuddered again, his arms twitching like he wanted to move them, but had just enough self-control to keep them in place. “With Leonard's - Galavan’s lackey - his blood on your face. And th-then y-you-” 

Oswald found his own breaths quickening, every part of his body straining towards Ed, just waiting for what he'll say. “Tell me,” he whispered, mouth hanging open as if in wait to devour Ed's next words whole.

“A-and then you're right in front of me. And it's so vivid, it's like you're really there,” Ed's Adam's Apple bobbed, and he almost smiled. “You say ‘what will it be, Ed? Are you going to f-fuck me, or-” Ed's lips trembled. Oswald found he couldn't look away. “Or shall I fuck you?” Another swallow. Ed's entire body was quaking beneath his gaze. “And-and then you look down at me and-and see that I'm-” Ed's breath shuddered out from between his teeth, eyes flickering down, half-lidded, and it was only when he felt the warmth of that breath against his skin that Oswald realized how far he'd leant in. It seemed gravity liked to bend differently around Edward Nygma. “And you s-say…” a huff as his hips twitched upwards. Oswald hadn't even touched him. “Good boy, Edward,” Ed growled it, possibly trying to match the tenor Oswald himself used. “A-and, sometimes-” another shudder. “I don't even have to-” Another swallow, another fluttering from his eyelashes. “And I'm there.”

Oswald stepped back, bracing his hands against the edge of the counter as he tried to control his breathing. “Next time,” he said, the words seething and spitting like lava. “Think of this.”

Oswald dropped to his knees.

***

Oswald hooked his thumb under the knot, sliding against the crinkled silk as he pulled the tie free.

“You can move your arms now, Ed,” he told him quietly. Ed groaned.

“I don’t think I can,” he mumbled. Oswald smiled, choosing to take that as a compliment.

“I’d offer to carry you to your bed,” Oswald stated. “But I don’t think kneeling on your floor did me any good.”

Ed finally seemed to stir at that, hoisting himself up to a sitting position.

“Oh, your leg!” he exclaimed softly, like a cuss. “I forgot.” Oswald would take that as a compliment as well.

“Don’t worry,” Oswald chuckled. “Besides, I should probably be getting back.” He nodded to the door. It seemed to emanate darkness, creating a cavern between them.

Ed’s throat moved. “Do you have to leave now? I mean, you could stay for a little while, I could help you with your leg.”

Oswald’s lips twisted, pondering the thought. Why must Ed always want him to stay?

“I didn’t even-” Ed’s eyes flickered down.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Oswald gushed falsely, adding a grin. “I took care of that.”

“Oh,” Ed nodded. Slowly, his eyes widened, realization dawning on him. “ _Oh_.”

Oswald ignored him, turning to survey the bed, ignoring the slowly drying mess between his thighs.

“A massage would be nice, though,” he stated, turning back to Ed with a smirk. “You could play umbrella boy. It’d be fun.”

“I think I’d make an excellent umbrella boy,” Ed enthused, swinging his legs as he hopped down from his perch. That easy, easy movement.

“I think that you’re be much too tall to be my umbrella boy,” Oswald told him with a hint of mocking coolness. “You’d never cope with the duties.” Oswald flounced over to Ed’s bed as much as he could with his cramping leg and the pain sprouting up his spine.

“Oh?” Ed asked, a sly grin growing on his face as he followed Oswald to the bed. “Then what would you have me do, sir?”

“Hmm,” Oswald made a face like he was seriously considering it as Ed himself got to his knees, lifting Oswald’s pant-leg up to peer at his scars. “Probably professional bed-warmer.” It was meant as a jab, Oswald’s skin feeling a little prickly under the intensity of Ed’s gaze on his mangled skin. But Ed seemed to take delight in it, smiling softly to himself as he started running his fingers along Oswald’s strained tendons.

“I hope I’d at least get to keep my suit,” he mused, digging into the arch of Oswald’s foot before pushing little circles slowly upwards. 

Oswald hissed. “On the contrary, I doubt I’d allow you any clothes of your own. Anything you wore would be delegated by me.”

“Really?” Ed smirked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Really,” Oswald stated.

“I guess I’d have to get to know you pretty well before I could convince you to allow me to wear what I like.”

“Mhmm,” Oswald hummed, fingers playing idly in the duvet as Ed massaged his calf muscle. “I believe we’d have to compromise.”

“Well, what would you have me wear?” Ed asked, fingers digging in just shy of painful to the point of ecstasy. Oswald sighed. “If I am not to go completely nude in public and breach the public indecency act.”

“A sparkling green dress,” Oswald declared flippantly, too focussed on the touch of Ed’s hands on his skin to think of anything better as he sank into the sheets. “With, uh, six-inch heels and a feather boa.”

“That’s quite the picture,” Ed snorted, hands still working diligently. “Although green is my colour.”

“Don’t worry,” Oswald mumbled, eyes slipping closed with a contented sigh as Ed moved up his thigh to release the tension there. “That one’s only for public.”

“So what will I wear when we’re alone?” Ed asked, hands kneading muscle.

“Nothing,” Oswald replied, hands still tracing the pattern on the duvet.

“And should guests come over?”

“Ugh, garters, perhaps? And a green lace dress,” Oswald murmured slowly, the image building with each slow-moving word. “And, if we really wanted them to go away, just a corset and thong. They’ll know they should have knocked another time.”

“The king is busy,” Ed laughed, slightly distorted and distant, as if Oswald was underwater.

“Y-yes,” Oswald mumbled, wrapping the edge of the duvet around himself. “The k-king is busy.”

***

_Buzz, buzz._

Oswald’s eyes slowly opened to the world. His cheek was smushed hard up against his pillow, no doubt leaving crease-lines on his face, as comfortable as it was. Slowly, he turned his head, eyes blinking up at the blank white ceiling above him.

A shower played a white-noise soundtrack in the background, closer than Oswald have thought, and he finally sat up to survey his surroundings properly. Oh, another night at Ed’s. What else?

Oswald flopped back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling again with a sigh. Yes, it all came back to him it one sudden flash of movement; kissing Ed up against the door, restraining him with only his voice and a silk tie against the kitchen counter, dropping to his knees and rejoicing in the utter tension held in Ed’s trembling thighs as he held himself back from thrusting up into Oswald’s mouth lest he stopped entirely.

Yes, a successful venture, indeed.

Although-

_Buzz, buzz._

Oswald’s heart thumped as he realized that he had never intended to stay this long. Judging by the light pouring in through the Eastern window, it was early morning. Oswald should have been back at the Manor hours ago, they’d only just gotten settled in after all. He had plans to draw up, promises to maintain, decisions to make. And here Oswald was, laying in Edward Nygma’s bed like he had nothing better to do. He hadn't come this far just to be stuck where he was. He might as well have been one of the painted whores his mother so despised.

_Buzz, buzz._

Sighing, Oswald rooted around until he stuck his hand in his back pocket, pulling the phone up into sight.

_**Ivy:** 14 new messages._

With another sigh, Oswald clicked on her name.

_**Ivy:** Ok i thnk u shuld probly come home rn_

Oswald scrolled, up looking for where the messages began.

_**Ivy:** Were r u? Ive looked every were_

_**Oswald:** Can't talk right now, I'm busy._

_**Oswald:** You can apologize to me later._

_**Ivy:** Watcha doin_

_**Ivy:** R u even in th house_

_**Ivy:** R u wit ridleboy_

_**Ivy:** I bet ur wit him_

_**Ivy:** Hope ur havin fun_

_**Ivy:** don’t stay out 2 L8 tho or bri an freeze wil get mad_

_**Ivy:** also can u pick up som more glovs i tore mine an ned new backups_

_**Ivy:** Ok r u comin home @ all tonite_

_**Ivy:** uh….. Wat do i tel bri_

_**Ivy:** gess ill c u l8er_

_**Ivy:** when r u comin home today_

_**Ivy:** bri has oficaly eaten evrythin in th cupboard_

_**Ivy:** shes actully movd on 2 vegtabls now_

_**Ivy:** Ok i thnk u shuld probly come home rn_

Oswald sighed, scrubbing at his eyes to clear the blurriness around the edges. He cast his gaze to the bathroom door, the shower still sounding within it.

_**Oswald:** I’ll be back soon. Give me an hour, tops. It won’t be that long._

Oswald put his phone away and set about trying to find his missing clothes. Looking around, he saw his waistcoat draped haphazardly over Ed’s sofa, his suit jacket poking half-out from beneath it. Sighing, Oswald stood up from the bed, stretching his back and shifting his damned leg to stop it from complaining, although it seemed fairly relaxed after last night’s impromptu ‘massage’.

He walked over and snatched the waistcoat up from the sofa, pulling it around his shoulders before doing up the buttons. There appeared to be one missing, Oswald noted dejectedly. Bending down, Oswald grabbed his suit jacket, pulling it on whilst kneeling to save himself from getting up too soon. It was only when he’d cast a casual glance in the sofa’s direction that Oswald noticed a small glint from beneath the couch’s confines, shining in the black. Frowning, Oswald bent down even further, stretching his hand out beneath the sofa, reaching until he felt his fingers brush something. Curious now, Oswald grabbed at it, pulling it out. Surprisingly, it was simply a notepad, the spiral spine gleaming shiny.

In another universe, Oswald would have put the notebook back on the floor, face-down, and slid it under the couch to be forgotten once more.

In another, he would have simply put it on the side-table or some other innocuous place and promptly ignored it.

In this universe, Oswald turned the notebook over and read every word until his hands were shaking.

_**I hate - He never - Whiny- Self-obsessed - Killer.** _

**_Incapable of love._ **

In the distant background, the shower turned off.

_Liar._ Edward Nygma was a liar. And, yes, Oswald recognised this notepad, now, from a couple weeks ago - Ed had looked at him, tear-stained and shaking, a broken machine who’d shivered in his arms like he’d needed Oswald’s warmth.

And this was what he’d been writing.

Heart thumping just a bit too hard, Oswald slowly placed the notebook back onto the floor, pushing it beneath the sofa again with one sure motion. Chest hitching, he inhaled deeply, holding air in his lungs as long as he could before gently letting it out.

It seemed Oswald had gotten the answer to his unspoken question after all. Ed hated him. Actually hated him. He wasn’t playing, wasn’t joking, wasn’t _flirting_. He simply couldn’t stand him. 

Oswald wasn’t surprised. Not really. Why should he be? Hadn’t he always seen this coming? Oswald betrayed Ed, and so Ed shot Oswald. That kind of rage didn’t just disappear after a couple late nights with their hands down each other’s pants. Oswald certainly hadn’t forgotten, so it made sense that Ed wouldn’t either.

_**He killed Isabella.** _

At least Oswald knew. The illusion was shattered, yes, and Oswald finally knew the true meaning of the phrase ‘ignorance is bliss’, but at least he knew. There was no denying it, no hiding from it. Oswald simply had to face this evil in the same way he’d face any other: armour on, shoulders set and head held high with one more blank stare.

The bathroom door opened, and Oswald hastily stood, swinging around as he did up the first button of his jacket, setting his shoulders. If Ed hated him but had made no show of it up until now, that meant he was planning something. And if Ed was planning something, that meant Oswald had to be ten steps ahead.

Which meant playing along.

“Good morning,” he greeted, stepping toward the man.

“Hello, sleepyhead,” Ed beamed, making his way to the closet to go rifling through his clothing choices for the day. 

Oswald pursed his lips. “You didn’t wake me.”

“Oh,” Ed coughed, looking to the side, away from Oswald’s eyes, as his cheeks coloured. “I… You looked tired, I thought you might need the rest.”

Something had gone unsaid, concealed deep within the corner of Ed’s eye, but, to the best of Oswald’s knowledge, a lot had gone unsaid lately so there was very little use in poking the bear now.

“You’re right,” Oswald said, watching Ed’s lips twitch at hearing his favourite words, “I was tired. Thank you for the massage, by the way.”

“Just like old times,” Ed replied, a wistful note in his voice as he locked his gaze with Oswald’s. Oswald frowned. He’d never thought Ed to be such a good liar. Perhaps he’d learned a thing or two while Oswald was away.

“Quite,” he replied, smiling blandly.

“Oh, by the way,” Ed began as he walked toward him, shameless despite only wearing a tank top and boxer shorts. Not that he had anything to hide. All of Ed’s scars were beautiful. “I found this. I think it’s yours.” Ed stretched his hand out, palm up. 

They leaned in at the same time, banging their heads together with a _thunk_.

“Ouch,” Oswald grumbled. Ed looked rather flustered.

“Kiss it better?” he offered softly. Oswald frowned, staring at him in something of a stupor until Ed was leaning in, pressing his lips to Oswald’s forehead. He stayed there, much longer than necessary (not that it was all that necessary, to begin with), pressing something small into Oswald’s hand. As Ed pulled away, Oswald looked down to recognise the item as his waistcoat button, and quickly placed it in the little waistcoat-pocket to be remembered and stitched on later.

“Do you want breakfast?” Ed asked, going back to the closet. “I can make you some crépes. I know you love those.”

“Hmm…” Oswald cocked his head. Perhaps Oswald was thinking about this all wrong. “I do have to get back soon.” Perhaps Ed wasn’t lying to him after all.

Ed’s eyes dimmed.

It was possible to hate someone and care for them at the same time, after all.

“But, perhaps-” Oswald began.

That _was_ what betrayal did to a man, after all: Left them with a strange mix of anger and sadness that could result in a multitude of things. Oswald understood the feeling.

“I could stay for just one.” Ed’s eyes brightened, his eyebrows curling high into his brow. “Provided you have whipped creme, of course.”

“Of course, of course I do,” Ed smiled warmly, voice dipping low.

Besides, hadn’t Oswald’s mother always said there was a fine line between love and hate?

“Let me just get changed first.” Ed snatched a cardigan from the closet.

And, oh, how a line could blur.

***

“Oh, thank _God_ ,” Ivy sighed in relief.

“No,” Oswald replied. “I’m afraid I can’t. We’re not on speaking terms at the moment.”

“Have you seen Bri and Freeze yet?” Ivy asked, ignoring him.

“I’ve dealt with all of that,” Oswald dismissed, waving his hand before turning to the next page of the newspaper. “I asked Edward to cook up enough crépes to keep them satisfied, and I’ll have Freeze drop you by a store somewhere later to gather provisions.” Oswald looked up from the paper, taking in Ivy’s slowly-calming features. “You can even meet up with Miss Kyle, if you like.”

“Yay,” Ivy smiled, clapping her hands together excitedly. Oswald rolled his eyes, resettling his shoulders before turning his gaze back to the page.

“So,” Ivy plopped herself down in the seat beside him, making Oswald sigh and roll his eyes again. “You and Riddle-boy, huh? How’d it go?”

“It was very informative,” Oswald stated, trying his best to read the words on the page, but finding his eyes skimming over them repeatedly.

“Ooh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Ivy gushed.

Oswald huffed, finally snapping the paper closed and setting it on his lap. “If you must know, Ivy, I did find something out this morning,” he seethed. “As it turns out, you were wrong. Edward hasn’t forgiven me. We’re not lovers. We’re barely even friends. He may care for me in some warped, ex-best friend form, but it is _not_ love.”

Ivy’s eyes widened. It looked like pity and shock, and Oswald hated it.

“In fact,” Oswald spat, “I have it on good authority that Edward down-right hates me, so, next time you feel inclined to give your opinion on the man, remember this; he shot me in cold blood, pushed me into a river and left me to die. And that didn’t change him one bit.”

“I’m sorry,” Ivy told him, her gaze growing cold suddenly. “But, I don’t believe you. I don’t know what he told you, but, whatever it is, it’s a lie.”

“You don’t know him,” Oswald growled. He stood, folding the newspaper squarely and tucking it under his arm.

“But I know you. And I don’t think you’d choose to just love anyone,” Ivy said plainly. “You’re not stupid like the rest of us.”

Oswald pressed his lips together, keeping the torrent of words at bay. He had a million things to say, but none of them felt like the right things to tell the girl.

“I’m going upstairs to read in peace,” he stated. “Make sure you’re properly armed before you go into the city. I don’t know where Bridget unpacked the spare armoury, so ask her.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before heading out the door, turning down the hallway and up the stairs until he was safely ensconced in his room.

But once he was there, Oswald found himself restless, still unable to focus on the blurring lines of text. Instead, he chose to pace, moving back and forth from one side of the room to another.

That was, until he found his phone in his hand and his thumb typing out a new message to one Edward Nygma.

_**Oswald:** Thanks for the crepes. They were delicious_

Oswald bit his lips before pressing SEND and sitting down on his bed to await a reply. 

Not two minutes later…

_Buzz, buzz._

Oswald wasted no time before flipping his phone open.

_**Edward:** No problemo._

Oswald found his lips smiling before he gave them permission to do so.

_Buzz, buzz._

_**Edward:** You do owe me a meal, though. Perhaps I should join you at your abode sometime?_

Oswald resisted the urge to chuck his phone against the wall and pretend it had never existed. That wouldn’t solve anything, would just leave Ed asking even more questions. He couldn’t have that.

Oswald had meant what he’d said to Ivy; he and Ed weren’t lovers, they were friends, and barely that. Ed was Oswald’s saviour first, his friend later, employee after, then, eventually, his one true love. And now…

Now Ed was his enemy.

_**Oswald:** I have recently re-established myself in the Van Dahl Manor. Perhaps you could join me sometime?_

How did that saying go?

_Buzz, buzz._

_**Edward:** I would love to. _

_Buzz, buzz._

_**Edward:** I’m busy tonight, though. _

_Buzz, buzz._

_**Edward:** Maybe tomorrow night?_

Ah, yes. Keep your friends close…

_**Oswald:** I’ll see you soon. I trust you can get in without awakening anyone else staying in the house. It would be so terrible if you disturbed their sleep._

_Buzz, buzz._

_**Edward:** Well, we can’t have that ;)_

And your enemies closer.

    
_Chasing that rush_   
_I need to show you what you've been missing_   
_And give me your touch_   
_All of your love is not forbidden_ _Taking, pretending you're nothing but giving_   
_Making me lose my cool_   
_Faking my love game, baby, we're the same_   
_Heart turned from good to cruel_   
_You know that you've got me_   
_You've loved me down_   
_You tell me you want me now_   
_Is it desire, or is it love that I'm feeling for you?_   
_I want desire_   
_'Cause your love only gets me abused_   
_Is it desire, or is it love that I'm feeling for you?_   
_I want desire,_   
_I wanna see what you're willing to lose_

**Author's Note:**

> Oswald's an idiot, but he's a crafty idiot. You may notice that I cut some of the smut out, that is simply because I intend to use some of it in the next part. Also, I believe that Bed-warmer!Ed is one of the most ingenious ideas I've had in months and someone should definitely write that.  
> As per usual, any/all kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and have a swell day :)


End file.
